


A Person, Not A Place

by JackyM



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos is a Good husband, Cecil is a Good Husband, Cecilos Week 2019, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, includes things from across canon!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 00:44:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18304736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackyM/pseuds/JackyM
Summary: My prompts for Cecilos Week 2019! They were all sort of long, and I'm proud of them, so I decided to post them here! nwn





	1. Functions of 5-Hydroxytryptamine (5-HT)

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing special to say! These were just my prompts from the 2019 Cecilos Week! And I meant to post them much, much earlier but I...kept forgetting, fhghbg. ;w;
> 
> Day 1 was Fashion/Science, and I went with Science!

Thick, tar-like growths pushed themselves through the cracks in the walls, and had started pulsating and humming within the past fifteen minutes. What was odd about these growths, Carlos realized, was that they weren’t always there when he went to the post office. **  
**

> _Hypothesis: something was triggering this tar-like growth, because nothing in a world that is maintained by science can happen randomly._

What an unscientific word “random” is, Carlos thought, to describe something that naturally occurs!

> _Another hypothesis: the thick black ooze has to come from somewhere within the building, because it was never visible from the outside._

> _Potential methods: Using a stethoscope on the walls to listen for a noise similar to the humming the sludge was making to see if it was within the walls. Unlike the other humming and softly moving masses in Night Vale, this humming was more melodic and gentle. Not the discordant noises reminiscent of a drying machine full of duffel bags that accompanied the shape in Mission Grove Park or buzzing shadow from a few years ago, for example. This was a fairly unique hum, which meant that it might be specific to this area._

Carlos squinted at the residue on the wall, and mumbled a pensive “hmmmmm.”

There was only one post office in Night Vale. It’d been especially difficult sending and receiving mail that time the post office completely disappeared. Had this strange black muck been in the post office before it vanished for several weeks? Carlos couldn’t remember, a feeling in Night Vale he was used to. At the time, the post office had not been a particularly large concern. There had been far more pressing scientific matters. Pressing because there were lives were at stake. Scientifically, a matter is considered most pressing when there are lives that need to be saved.

> _Hypothesis: If the post office did not have this sludge seeping into its walls before it disappeared, it must have gotten it from wherever it had vanished to._

> _Another hypothesis: Cecil would probably know about how things were because he has been in Night Vale his whole life and pays attention to small details like that. He’s such a fantastic radio journalist._

Carlos looked over his shoulder at Cecil, who was on his phone and scrolling through a Tumblr that looked to be mostly just cat photos.

> _Scientific fact: Cecil is supercute. The absolute supercutest in all of Night Vale._

Carlos nudged Cecil.

“Cecil. I have an important question.”

Cecil stopped looking at his phone and looked at Carlos as if it was the first time he’d seen him that day.

“You have an important question for me?”

The way he said it was with barely contained excitement, and Carlos chuckled, taking Cecil’s free hand.

“Yeah, I have an important question for you! Do you remember what the post office was like before it disappeared for a few weeks, a few years ago? Did it still have a thick, tar-like alluvium trickling through the cracks in the walls? And if it did, did that thick, tar-like alluvium also begin humming in a way that does not resemble the typical humming emitted by similar formless masses in Night Vale?”

“Oh, you mean, when it disappeared around six years ago? Hmm. Well, I don’t remember that time terribly well. I was really distracted back then. This really handsome scientist came into Night Vale, and I just fell in love with him, instantly. It was hard to notice much else. This man had amazing hair.”

“Stop.”

> _Hypothesis: Cecil is too much._

Carlos’ face washed with color, and he reached out to hold Cecil’s hand.

“Before it disappeared, I don’t think it had all of this pulsing and humming black slime. Sometimes all of the sounds in the post office would converge into a garbled, distorted noise, but that was about it. And the service was a lot faster,” Cecil lowered his voice, “I wasn’t standing in line for this long.”

“Hmmm,” said Carlos, “so then, the humming emitted by this sludge is so unique because it might in fact be from a place that it not Night Vale.”

Cecil raised his eyebrows.

“You think so?”

Carlos shrugged.

“I don’t know. All of science is some level of ‘I don’t know’. It starts out with not knowing and gradually becomes knowing as you test out the statement of ‘I might know, and here is why’. ‘I don’t know, but I’m trying to find out, okay’? That’s what science is defined as, according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary.”

Cecil rubbed Carlos’ thumb in his hand.

“I love that definition of it. It’s so succinct. And it’s exactly what you’re doing, everyday. Not knowing, but trying to find out. Or having a feeling that you might know, and doing lots of experiments to find out if you truly know or not. And doing even more experiments when you discover something else you don’t know in a study full of things you thought you did know.”

“Science is very thrilling that way! Scientists know a lot of things, but the things we do not know greatly outnumber them! For example, I know that this ooze comes from a place that is not Night Vale, as evidenced by the fact that the hum it emits does not match the hums made by native Night Vale oozes. But I do not know where it came from, or where in this building it is located when it is not percolating through the walls. I also do not know what it is capable of doing, that is, I have no reading on its average emittance of standard fatality units. I also do not know if it is an organic or inorganic type of ooze, because its hum does not match either. Cecil, Cecil, I need you to know right now this is the most scientifically fascinating trickling sludge I have ever seen!”

Cecil let Carlos’ hand go so Carlos could excitedly flap them, and Cecil leaned forward so he could kiss his husband’s forehead, and then rested his own forehead against Carlos’.

> _Observation: Cecil is being so considerate. He’s just so wonderful and lovable._

“I love it when you’re so excited over science,” Cecil said, putting his hands on Carlos’ waist. Cecil could hear and feel Carlos’ hands against his chest, “it makes me so happy. Like you’re just radiating serotonin.”

“Actually, Cecil, serotonin, like all hormones, has a variety of uses. It regulates mood, yes, but it also plays a key role in developing denser bones and in digesting food efficiently. Ceece, most of your serotonin is found in your gastrointestinal tract, because most of it is used there. And, it plays a role in some…scientific behaviors. If I radiated serotonin, I think that would have some incredibly dangerous consequences due to how multifaceted its uses are!”

“Oh! I didn’t know any of that. You bring up a good point. I wouldn’t want bones that are really easy to break with these joints.”

Carlos stopped flapping his hands and wrapped his arms around Cecil’s waist, squeezing the ample softness there. He didn’t stop moving his hands; he threaded the thick faux fur on Cecil’s neon green vest between his fingers.

> _Observation: This feels really, really nice._

“You’re cute.”

“I have arthritis.”

“I know. You’re cute.”

“Aww. You too, bunny. The cutest bunny scientist ever.”

Carlos rubbed his forehead against Cecil’s, drawing his arms tighter around his husband’s waist. Cecil responded by bringing his hands up from Carlos’ waist and resting them on either side of his head, stroking his ears and kissing him, just once, just gently, on the nose.

> _Conclusion: Cecil is a wonderful, adorable husband, and I love him, so, so much._


	2. Metaphase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Future/Past, and I went with Past!

It had only been a few days.

It felt like it had been both more than that, and less than that.

Time was weird.

In Night Vale, and in a new relationship.

Carlos could still feel Cecil’s head on his shoulder, and Cecil’s knee under his hand, and the feeling of intimacy that comes with that sort of physical exchange. The feeling that attaches itself to a movement, to touch, like chromosomes attach to spindle fibres. And like chromosomes stuck to spindle fibres, this feeling was moving and shifting into another phase, another part of a complete process.

Except it wasn’t quite there yet.

They hadn’t really been on a date or anything yet.

They hadn’t even kissed yet.

Carlos wasn’t even sure whether to call Cecil his boyfriend yet. That seemed too forward. And it seemed too much.

Cecil had been busy over the past few days, dealing with the aftermath at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, and Carlos had been busy too, after what happened at the Smithwick house. He’d told Cecil about the holes unexpectedly appearing in people’s walls, over the phone, and Cecil had said he’s try to remember to report on it, but there were a lot of things in his focus at the moment. The way he apologized, so sincere, so excited that he was being trusted with scientific information, made Carlos’ heart melt in his chest. And with a melted heart comes brainless, scattered, chaotic words and sounds. Carlos thought he had something else to say to Cecil, but he completely forgot it. And he loved it. He loved every second of it. He loved every second of it for several thousands of seconds after the phone call ended.

_Hmm._

The scientific word for thinking.

_Hmm._

The thing a scientist does most; thinking.

_Hmm._

* * *

Carlos had said he called for professional reasons, and he had; the Night Vale Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area had recently sprouted oddly colored cacti that waved loosely in the wind in the stretches of oceanless sand that defined the harbor. Carlos was not entirely sure what this meant, but he wanted people to be aware that this was happening. Deep down, he worried about an already terrible childhood vacation made worse by a phantom ocean, but Carlos’ didn’t remember swaying cyan cacti as an indicator. Regardless, he wanted to know if this had ever happened before, and he also really wanted to talk to Cecil. About science. Not about weekend plans, because he still was unsure about how to ask that, what went into asking that, and when he would feel comfortable asking that. He was calling about science.

Carlos waited for Cecil outside of his lab and felt his heart race seeing him get out of the car, paying attention to his iridescent pants when Cecil bent over to lock his car. When they made eye contact, Carlos felt his heart race even faster, and in a matter of seconds he could imagine himself jumping forwards and kissing him, not too hard, but with just enough force that the words “I love you” wouldn’t need to be said. Carlos wracked his mind for words that weren’t “I love you”, because he did call for professional reasons, even though he was, more than anything, looking for an excuse to be with Cecil.

“Hey,” is what he ended up saying, and then, “I mean, um, hi, Cecil.”

“Oh,” Cecil’s eyes lit up, “does hey mean something different in the scientific community?”

“It does not. Hey means the same thing in the scientific community as it means in the regular non-scientific community. Which is to say, a casual greeting. But, well, since I called for professional reasons, I wanted to say something more professional. And, well, in the scientific community, hi is considered the second most exciting and professional way to greet someone.”

“What’s the first one?”

“It’s ‘behold’! You might say, like, ‘behold, a really cool rock’!”

“I agree, that’s way more exciting and professional. Speaking of which, I am so sorry that I didn’t pick up the phone when you called. I have just been so busy lately. There are rumors that the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home is running for office, but, rumors are nothing worth basing a story on, so I’ve been doing fact finding.”

“Really? That sounds…well, um, that sounds a lot like science. More specifically, Cecil, it sounds like looking for scientific evidence to support a hypothesis! A hypothesis is a scientific wild guess. What’re you doing?”

“Loudly asking her if she’s really running for office and hoping she’ll respond.”

“Did she?”

“She spelled ‘accessible’ on my refrigerator using dead beetles from the windows and glue sticks. I’m not sure if that was a yes, a no, a maybe, or not an answer to anything whatsoever. It’s tough asking her questions and getting an answer.”

“She sounds wonderful!”

“She’s great! But, wait, I’m sorry, what were we talking about?”

“Yeah, um, yeah, sorry, I got off-topic. I wanted to show you something really scientifically important, if you have the time.”

“Of course,” said Cecil, clasping his hands together, “I am very into science.”

Carlos smiled, and held the lab door open for Cecil. Once he was inside, Carlos gently, gently, took Cecil’s hand in his own, and led him into his private lab where he had several samples of the cyan cacti and a variety of line graphs shaped like cacti spread out over the tables. When they got to the table, Carlos sat himself and Cecil down and rested his hand on the table’s, on top of Cecil’s. He looked at Cecil, trying not to be too obvious, and saw Cecil averting his eyes and his face stained with a blush. It was adorable.

“So, um,” Carlos started, “do you see all of these cacti?”

“Yes. I do in fact see them. They definitely exist.”

“You just did what I did earlier today, Cecil! I had to do tests on them to make sure that they exist, since they are such a weird color and since they behave like…not cacti. If they did not exist, then the studies I did on their sudden presence would be incredibly different than if they did exist.”

“That makes sense! How do you see if they’re real?”

“Well, if you can see something, then it exists. If you cannot see it, then in all likelihood, it does not exist. You just did that. The house that does not exist, like the one in the Desert Creek Housing Development, the one that is between two identical houses so it would make more sense for it to exist than for it to not exist, but it does not exist, that house? That house is extremely scientifically baffling because it can be seen, but does not exist.”

“Can you touch it?”

“Well, uh…there have been some difficulties doing that. Really scientific difficulties that are too full of science jargon to properly explain.”

“Right, okay. But you know these cacti exist?”

“Yes! They can be physically interacted with, as well as seen, and even carried from one location to another.”

“And the graphs?”

“They look like cacti!”

“Yes?”

“They look like cacti! Cacti are the thing that is being studied!”

“…Yes?”

“Scientifically, you understand way more if the graph resembles the thing being studied. If you stare at its numbers and say ‘hmm’ enough, you will almost definitely comes to a scientific conclusion much faster.”

“Oh,” Cecil’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, “wow! Okay, so…do you have a theory?”

“I called you because of my theory, actually. These all sprouted out in the sands beyond the harbor the other day. At first I theorized that these might be some kind of aquatic cacti given their color, which would suggest the future coming of a…well, it is not important what they would suggest, if they were a thing that they are not. The hypotheticals of a circumstance that is not, scientifically, the one we are in is called fiction. They are definitely terrestrial cacti, but I think that they might all be connected to some larger cactus, given how weak and easy to pull out of the ground they were.”

“So…you’re saying that they’re like…the pillars of some larger, greater, scarier cactus?”

“Not scarier, necessarily. Not all bigger things are scary. Bigger dogs are not scary.”

“I don’t know. That giant fungus in Oregano terrifies me.”

“Oh, you mean Oregon? You…know about that, Cecil? That…that is really neat, Cecil.”

“Yeah! I, well. It’s the first mushroom you’re told to fear when learning about which mushrooms are safe to eat and be within range of and not have to beg for mercy from in Boy Scouts. Like the big one in…Oregon, is that it? Where is Oregon?”

“I am a scientist. I study science. Not mushrooms, or geography.”

“Right, sorry.”

“Oregon’s in Ireland.”

“Oh, okay.

“It is really interesting that you bring up Armillaria gallica, though, Cecil, because–”

“Armillaria gallica?”

“The fungus in Ireland.”

“Oh, is that its name?”

“Yes! Anyways, it is really interesting that you bring it up because I think that this cactus might have a biological system very similar to it, and the ‘cacti’ we are seeing are a bit like a fungus in that they are just the reproductive organs of some larger, underground cactus. If they are, then it just means that there is no…impending doom, or at least an impending doom that is appropriate for a waterfront. But I wanted to ask you if you can remember an incident like this occurring in the past, and if you have any listeners who might remember a similar event! I was going to go out and mark out a two-by-two square patch to dig a hole and find a larger underground cactus and maybe have a snack, but I want to know first if this is truly indicative of some kind of large cactus blooming event. Because that would be such a fascinating scientific event to behold!”

“I can definitely ask,” said Cecil, smiling, “Josie might know something. She’s been around here longer than I have. I think. And NVCR is always happy to help the scientific community, Carlos. Like, really happy.”

“The scientific community is really grateful to NVCR. Um, ah, scientifically speaking. The scientific community really appreciate NVCR. Um, well, scientifically speaking. They love NVCR.”

“Oh!” Cecil jumped, eyes wide, flushed, “well, NVCR loves the scientific community, too!”

Carlos felt himself grow hot and flustered, and he stood up, taking Cecil’s hand as he did so. As Cecil stood up with him, Carlos took his other hand, and then just looked at him. Cecil looked back, visibly trying to hold back excitement. Carlos took it all in; how clammy and shaky his hands were, how warm Cecil’s hands were. Cecil’s beautiful umber eyes, his adorable nose, his thick curly hair. And Cecil looked back at him, also taking in physical features, also thinking, in that moment, I cannot believe this is really happening.

This was a new feeling.

This was a strange feeling.

This was a feeling in between two other feelings, between “we’re in love” and “we’re dating”.

This was an odd phase, a median phase, an awkward phase.

This was the phase when chromosomes lined up along the middle of a cell, condensed, about to become something entirely new and strange while already existing as something new and strange.

And they found that they didn’t mind.


	3. Scattered Data Points

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 was Away/Home, and I went with Away! But honestly, this could fit into both categories, fhbghb. >W<

It did not make sense.

So few things in the desert otherworld made sense, but the fact that nothing in the desert otherworld ever changed was especially confusing. Even more confusing than that was how cell phones were behaving in this otherworld. They never ran out of battery, and always had a signal, despite the otherworld being completely free of cell phone towers. Even stranger, whenever they broke, they would heal themselves instantly, a phenomenon nothing else seemed to exhibit. And despite all of the furious writing of Greek letters and looking into graduated cylinders full of liquid, and occasionally looking at a calculator filled with random numbers. Carlos was getting nowhere.

Carlos closed the door of his makeshift lab behind him and leaned against it.

Science could explain things like this.

As a scientist, he should be able to find the scientific explanation behind what made the desert otherworld so uniquely static.

He should be able to.

Carlos pulled his hands over his face.

It had been a while. A few months. But to Cecil, he knew it could not possibly have been that long. Cecil wanted space. That was okay. As much as he wanted to call Cecil, he wanted Cecil to have space more.

So he looked around for a calculator, for a pen, a few sheets of paper, and for his danger meter.

And in the relative darkness of his makeshift lab, he sat down at a table. The danger meter would give numbers in Standard Fatality Units, and Carlos would write them down. Sometimes, he would make a graph of the standard fatality units against the numbers in his calculator. Sometimes there was a pattern. Sometimes there was not. Often, in the desert otherworld, there was no pattern, because the Standard Fatality Unit reading was the same, so often. The few times it changed excited Carlos, because it meant that something had deviated from the normal, static environment he had become so used to. Mostly, though, it was just writing down numbers. Writing down numbers that he saw on his danger meter was fine. The repetition of a behavior, over and over, with no objective, caused no excitement, but it caused no stress, and no external thought.

This was something Carlos did when he was stressed, when he was lonely, when he needed to think about something else. Often, this was something he did when his current emotions met all of the aforementioned criteria. And when he felt this way, he would write down numbers for…for how long? For hours? Time was so weird in the desert otherworld, it was hard to tell how long it was. It felt like hours, but maybe it was less time. Maybe it was more time. Maybe it was an experience that cannot be linearly explained or envisioned. The weirder time gets, the weirder explanations of its functions gets. It stops being a straight line, and starts being a thing of angles and stray points.

* * *

Carlos could remember Cecil walking in, foggily. His day had been long, and overstimulating. Once he got home, a little earlier than usual, he just wanted to look at his danger meter and write down numbers, for however long it took for him to feel less stressed out by every one of his senses. He hadn’t even noticed Cecil left him a turkey and nutella sandwich on his desk, and a little note that said “let me know if you need anything” and a crude drawing of the cardiovascular system. Carlos felt his eyes start to sting. He couldn’t recall anyone doing something like that for him in years.

* * *

Carlos had been focused writing down numbers long enough to not notice the door to his lab opening, and notice it closing.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and felt his skin crawl when he realized how hard that hand’s fingers were gripping him. Carlos wasn’t sure how other people felt about touch. If touch made them feel like something sticky and uncomfortable had been placed somewhere on their body. If the feeling of being touched lingered long after a hand or an elbow had been removed. If being touched on the shoulders felt like being grabbed, no matter how gently it was meant.

Carlos could feel Kevin watching what he was doing, and Carlos squirmed under Kevin’s touch. Kevin didn’t seem to notice, or care. Carlos had a lot of difficulty pinning down under which category that fell into. Carlos exhaled, and leaned forward in his chair, sliding his shoulder out from underneath Kevin’s hand. He sighed, and turned to look at Kevin. He didn’t feel like it, but he’d rather spend energy maintaining eye contact than have Kevin tell him it was rude to not do so.

“Hey, Kevin.”

“Oh, hello, Carlos. It’s so nice and polite of you to finally notice I came in. Can I ask what important scientific thing you are doing?”

“Just reading the danger meter and writing numbers down! Scientists need to do repetitive things a lot. A big part of science is repetition of certain behaviors in order to determine how effective a scientific method is.”

“Why’re you doing it? Don’t you already know the average fatality of this place?”

“Uh, yeah, but…I just needed to take my mind off of the cell phone research right now. I have been vigorously researching why they have such strange behaviors here, but nothing about them seems to be explainable with science right now! I need to take a step back, a scientific term for taking a break, and clear my mind a bit. A clear mind is a clear scientific outlook on a scientific question, Kevin. And, I need to think about…other things.”

“Other things? What about this situation is so upsetting?”

“Nothing! Nothing is upsetting! Sometimes a situation just needs to be looked at after not being observed for some time. I think I should focus on this subject at a later time. Not much later, but like…no, time doesn’t work at all in this context. Time is hardly a good way to describe how things work here, um…at a later point in the foreseeable events that follow the events currently unfolding right now. Just not at this very relative, shared experience.”

“I…see,” trilled Kevin, stretching the words out, “taking a break. How lax of you!”

“It is a thing scientists should do occasionally.”

“Well, I’m no scientist, so I suppose I have no say in what is and isn’t proper scientific protocol. But, Carlos, if I was a scientist, I wouldn’t take any breaks over something I can choose to not experience! You can choose to not feel so frustrated! You can choose to keep doing the work! It’s about deciding to be hardworking, Carlos!”

“That is true, I can, but–”

“But what?”

“It’s, um, it’s kind of personal, Kevin.”

“Carlos,” Kevin tilted his head, “you don’t trust me with personal information? Beautiful, hardworking Carlos?”

“I…” Carlos searched for words, “I just, um, do not feel it’s relevant, Kevin.”

“If it is impacting your productivity, Carlos, it is very relevant. Anything that gets in the way of you making important scientific discoveries, one after another, is important. What about this path of discovery is leading you astray?”

“Well, it…it isn’t the study itself, scientifically speaking. That is only a part of why studying it is difficult right now. I also need to take my mind off of right now because I really miss–”

“Ahhh,” Kevin cut in, giving Carlos a sharp look, “so, this isn’t actually about science, is it? It’s about the boyfriend.”

“You know his name, Kevin.”

A pair of obsidian eyes narrowed in veiled irritation. His smile–was it a smile?–didn’t falter. If anything, it luxuriantly stretched further across his face like the sun coming up in the morning. He must’ve had lunch recently; barbecue sauce was seeping from his bright red gums through his sauce-stained teeth.

“That wasn’t terribly polite.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? You can’t just say that you’re sorry and not say what it’s over, Carlos.”

“I’m sorry for being rude.”

“I just think he makes you upset a lot of the time, that’s all. You can choose to not be upset over this, Carlos! You can choose to be happy!”

“But it is not Cecil who is making me upset. What makes me upset is how far away he is right now. And I miss being close to him. He needs space right now, and that is fine, it really is. But I miss him. I miss him a lot.”

Kevin leaned forward, and wrapped Carlos in a hug that Carlos tried not to struggle in. He knew what Kevin would say if he objected, and he was just trying to be supportive. It was too tight and smelled like barbecue sauce. Why was that bright yellow shirt always covered in barbecue sauce? Why did dried barbecue sauce smell so acrid? And how did Kevin always seem to have it on his hands and shirt and pants and face? Where was he even getting all of this barbecue sauce?

But it was fine.

Fine.

He was trying to help.

Carlos just didn’t want help in this form.

But it was the only form Kevin wanted to offer help in. 

* * *

Several times in the months following Carlos returning from the desert otherworld, he woke up in the middle of the night, sweating, cold, and near tears.

The action itself never startled Cecil; people awoke in the middle of the night like that all the time in Night Vale. What surprised Cecil was that it was coming from Carlos, who almost always slept soundlessly throughout the night, staying asleep even when the discordant noise of the sunrise rattled through their home. 

Every time Cecil woke up to an upset Carlos next to him, he’d sleepily ask if it was okay to hug him. 

And if it was, he’d gently take Carlos into his arms and hold him. 

He’d lie down with his arms around Carlos and his nose in Carlos’ matted, sweet-smelling hair, mumbling into the back of his neck. 

Sometimes about how it was okay, how whatever it was, Carlos was okay. Sometimes it was nothing at all, and just the silence of a dim morning.

He didn’t know everything about why Carlos was waking up so tearfully, why Carlos seemed so surprised to find Cecil next to him, why when Carlos was okay with Cecil embracing him, he’d just collapse in his arms.

 Cecil didn’t ask why, either. He wanted Carlos to be comforted. Part of comforting someone is letting them talk about what they want to talk about. It took time, but Carlos would calm down. His shaking would dissolve into sniffles, and he’d lie still, in Cecil’s hand, or resting his face on Cecil’s chest. Cecil would keep talking, or he’d grow quiet, just holding Carlos, and letting Carlos get his bearings. And every time, Carlos would press himself closer to Cecil, as though he’d just been apart from him for some time, as if this was an old, new sensation to him.

“I missed you,” Carlos would mumble into Cecil, into the man he loved the absolute most, into the person he had found a home in. 

“I missed you, and I love you, so much.”


	4. Into One Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 was Interloper/Night Vale! I chose Night Vale! This does slide into Perfect/Imperfect a bit, but there is no law that says I cannot do that twice!

Cecil greeted Carlos with a kiss on the lips, which Carlos graciously reciprocated with a tender “ohh!”. Cecil backed up awkwardly, holding Carlos by the waist, hands loosely on his beautiful husband’s love handles. Carlos gently closed the radio booth door with his foot, intent on keeping his lips on Cecil’s. Cecil slid back into his chair, pulling Carlos with him, and into his lap. They broke apart, delicately, but kept their lips together until Cecil moved his face and planted a final kiss on Carlos’ forehead. Carlos rested his head on Cecil’s shoulder, and cupped Cecil’s face in his hands, shaking Cecil’s head gently.

“What was that about, poot?”

“Nothing! You’re really handsome in your mauve and teal formal weekday lab coat, that’s all. I can’t help being enamored by you.”

Carlos’ gaze shifted and the dark skin of his face colored.

“Stop. You’re too much.”

“You are a breathtakingly gorgeous scientist with incredible hair, and an incredible mind.”

“Mmm,” Carlos nuzzled Cecil’s shoulder, “I believe that there is, based on previous data, a statistically significant chance that your adorability is going to increase the more time I spend here. Like, if I had a graph, for your adorability versus time, the p-value of that graph would highly suggest a correlation of Cecil’s adorability and time.”

“Are you sure you aren’t talking about yourself, koala bear?”

“Yes, actually, I am, Phascolarctos cinereus,” Carlos said, lifting his head from Cecil’s shoulder, “I’m a scientist. Scientists are always cute and have a consistent adorability throughout the day. That adorability is usually around 29.712 Standard Adorability Units, though some scientists are a little less adorable than that.”

“Is there pressure to be cute in the scientific community, like there’s pressure to be really handsome?”

“Not really! Cuteness, or as it is scientifically called, adorability, is more of a behavioral than an appearance type of measurable quantity.”

“I wonder,” said Cecil, pressing his forehead into Carlos’, “if you can test your own adorability? Because I think you might be a statistical outlier.”

Carlos flushed, because his husband was being incredibly sweet, and because his husband was using science-adjacent words.

“Oh. You old flatterer. Is this the reason you wanted me to come over after work?”

“No, but it is certainly something I enjoy doing. I actually just remembered that a really important date is coming up, and, I don’t know…when I really think about it, Carlos, I think it’s worth celebrating.”

“Babe,” Carlos tilted his head, “our anniversary was a few months ago. Well, no, no, I mean, loosely, it was a few months ago. Time is weird, especially in Night Vale, and therefore any quantification of time is worthy of some editing due to the nature of Night Vale itself. It’s more like, it felt like an amount of time that I think and feel was a few months ago and generally can be agreed upon as a few months ago. Time is tricky like that.”

“Yes, that’s true, but that isn’t the anniversary I’m talking about here.”

“And it cannot be our dating anniversary, since that is an amount of time that I think and feel is a few months from now away, so it must be some other date you are referring to, then. Something really important that happened between us, and something that is worth celebrating. Oh!!! Oh, oh, oh, Cecil, are you referring to what I, scientifically, based on my scientific understanding of this conversation, think you are referring to? Is it possible that you are referencing an event that occurred a few weird years ago that designates the time that you and I, scientifically speaking, according to science and all, when you and I…when we started to share a home together?”

“It is possible that I am referring to that event,” said Cecil, twirling a lock of hair around his index finger, “it is very possible.”

“I am so sorry I did not land on that conclusion sooner,” frowned Carlos, his gaze dipping down to where his hands were rubbing the sequins on Cecil’s shirt, “because you are right, this is a really important occasion.”

“Aww, bunny, I only just remembered today, too. And it’s less the actual day, and more what it symbolizes, I think. I started to think about how things were back then, between us, and how much I learned about us that day you went to look at the condos that were for sale.”

Something about Carlos tensed, and Cecil just gently squeezed Carlos and kissed him.

“I think it was then, Carlos, when…when I really saw having a future with you, and not some idealized point that deviates so far from our now. But a real, imperfect future with a real, imperfect person. I could really see myself living with you for the rest of my life then, sharing a home with you, a life with you.”

“Yeah,” Carlos smiled softly at Cecil, “I know what you mean, Ceece. I mean, I had already been thinking about it, but…everything that happened that day did not just convince me that it was a good idea to make a home together. It convinced me that it was a good idea to spend a life together. To connect two points with a line, to bring two lines together to make an angle, to combine angles and points and lines and planes into something taking up space, which is nothing, within nothing. I had not completely realized it yet then, but…I think then I was starting to understand where home was. Who home was. You were right about today, Cecil. The date is irrelevant. Irrelevant because scientifically, time is not real, and ultimately meaningless; a tangle of nonexistent reactants and products that are impossible to make complete sense of. And meaningless because every day we can celebrate the fact that we have a home together, and a life together.”

“I love you,” said Cecil, his eyes shining, “you are so right and I love you, so much. I cannot believe out of all the possible spaces and times that we could both occupy, we found one another. And I cannot believe how every morning, Carlos, I can wake up and see you asleep next to me. It is impossibly astounding how vast the universe is, and how I managed to get so lucky.”

Carlos leaned forward, and pressed his lips against Cecil’s, holding Cecil’s shoulders tenderly as he did so. Years of stressful, exciting, difficult, imperfect, wonderful years manifested in a simple, graceful kiss, and Cecil happily felt every ounce of it.


	5. Electromagnetic Interference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 was a free day, so I decided to do an episode style-esque fic!

“Listeners, you will never guess who I have in the studio with me right now!”

In that moment, all of Night Vale feigned befuddlement.

“Hi, Cecil! I am so excited that radio and science are overlapping. So excited. The combination of radio and science is, scientifically, one of the neatest combinations that overlap, connected by their wonderful shared existences.”

“Carlos,” Cecil chided, playfully grabbing Carlos’ nose, “I was going to lead up to a really big reveal! Now, to all of my listeners who may not know, Carlos is an incredibly handsome and brilliant scientist who is also my husband. And I really love him.”

“You’re too much.”

“I really, really love him, listeners. I know you cannot see this, listeners, but Carlos is blushing, so much, and it’s adorable.”

Cecil rested his face in his hands and looked at Carlos, dreamily, fluttering his eyelashes. He looked so handsome, the lights in the studio seemingly made for lighting his face. His hair looked nice too, settling around his headphones and embracing them in a curly swoop. Carlos felt even more heat come to his face, and he brought his hands over his eyes and smiled.

“Cecil,” he mumbled, drawing the last syllable out, “I am here for an incredibly professional reason! I have an incredibly important scientific discovery that I would like to ask Night Vale to behold!”

“You would like us to behold it? Listeners, tat is one of the most scientific ways to ask someone to notice something important, according to gorgeous local scientists.”

“It is! And what I would like Night Vale to behold is information on Radon Canyon!”

“Oh! Yeah, it’s been giving off a darker green glow lately. It’s kind of an eyesore. Like, it glows that brighter green color and we get used to it and color coordinated all the warning signs, and then it suddenly changes its color for no reason. Ugh. Make up your mind, canyon.”

“That is not how canyons work, Ceece, but that’s cute. But Radon Canyon is exactly what I have been studying lately! There has been a considerable shift in its colors over the past week, going from a pale green to a much darker shade of green. And a darker shade of green, Cecil, is a statistically significant change in wavelength from its normal color fluctuations. Usually, it only becomes brighter, which meant that I would need to monitor its danger levels to see if this change was indicative of anything potentially lethal. I have been spending time out by Radon Canyon, holding a danger meter and saying ‘hmm’ while writing things down on a portable chalkboard. Really scientific things, like ‘isotopes’ and ‘adenosine triphosphate’. And when I am incredibly confused by what may have triggered this change in color, Cecil, I stroke my chin and say ‘hmmmm, science…science’, much more pensively. The more pensive, Cecil, the more scientific your way of thinking becomes.”

“Uh-huh?”

Cecil’s head was tilted into his hands now.

“It worked! I said ‘hmm’ and ‘science’ and drew a lot of hearts around the words ‘science’ and ‘weird glowing lights’, and I figured it out! And, Cecil, this is incredibly important. The lights coming from Radon Canyon are not indicative of a Pink Floyd Laser Spectacular. This is maybe one of the most relieving scientific discoveries I have ever made in Night Vale, and scientifically speaking, a majority of my discoveries here are relieving . A second Pink Floyd Laser Spectacular could have been an incredibly menacing incident within Night Vale.”

“I remember when there were rumors about a Pink Floyd Laser Spectacular in Radon Canyon! Just rumors. Totally just rumors. Pink Floyd isn’t even a thing. Allegedly, anyways.”

“If it was not a thing, Cecil, that would be one of the most relieving scientific discoveries of the century. Prisms refracting light is a scientific process that deserves to be recognized for the exciting phenomenon that it is, Ceece! Visible light is actually made up of all visible colors, so when they move through a glass prism, they bend at different lengths, producing a variety of different shades of green and that buzzing, screeching sound! Actually, um, I have a chart,” Carlos held up a chart he had pulled out from somewhere within his lab coat, beaming, “right here, that details how a prism works! See? Look, you can see it right here, how light enters the prism and refracts at different points! It creates a rainbow as it passes through the light! Look, look, right here, there are the sentient glass particles bending the light and singing a single note in C minor!”

“Um, so, Carlos…on radio, people can’t see that. Just like how they can’t see facial expressions. But, Carlos, what did you discover about Radon Canyon? What about its coloration threatens our town?”

“Oh,” Carlos laughed, “the coloration that Radon Canyon is giving off is completely harmless. I checked its danger readings and compared them to previous years, and its average Standard Fatality Units are very similar. I made a graph with all of the danger readings from Radon Canyon, and added some adorable little error bars to it and a few hearts around the x and y coordinates. That is when I saw, Cecil, how I have the graph right here, actually! See? It shows how the danger of Radon Canyon has not fluctuate much since last week!”

“Radio.”

“Of course, Ceece, this does not guarantee that nothing malevolent will come from Radon Canyon. It does not guarantee anything. Nothing is a guarantee, only a possibility. Some possibilities, however, based on accrued scientific knowledge, are much more likely. But, at the same time, Cecil, when the most likely possibilities are contradicted, there are scientific explanations for their occurrence, no matter how long it takes to land on those occurrences.”

“You’re right! With our current understanding of science, we should be prepared for both what science tells us to prepare for, but also, to prepare for what science does not tell us to prepare for. Existence is spontaneous like that.”

“Yes! But, usually, though, Cecil, you cannot go wrong with plexiglass and packaging tape. That generally will prepare you for things science cannot tell you about yet. Hey,” Cecil leaned forward and held Cecil’s hand, “thank you for having me on your show today, Cecil. I love being on your show, poot.”

“Aww, I love you being on my show too, bunny! Scientific discoveries are incredibly valuable, whether they are here to inform or placate us. And now, dear listeners, dear, scientifically educated listeners, a word from our sponsors.”

Cecil switched to a pre-recorded ad, one that was long enough for him to slip his head phones off and lean forward to kiss Carlos’ lips. Carlos raised his eyebrows, but smiled into the kiss, catching his husband’s lips in his own and humming happily, flapping his hands when he felt Cecil’s hands in his hair, soft and familiar, gliding down to his ears and stroking the backside of them. Cecil, well aware that his ad didn’t have much time, reluctantly pulled away from Carlos and leaned back in his chair. Carlos looked at him, pouting.

“You looked so cute while you were listening to me,” standing up resting his elbows on the chair, “you’re so good at your job. I love how well you can keep your radio voice for everyone to hear.”

“I have had a lot of practice,” said Cecil, narrowing his eyes and smiling, “a lot. Practice in general, as a radio professional, and practice with you here. I know how to handle excited, handsome, irresistible scientists.”

Carlos got up to leave, but before he did so, kissed Cecil’s forehead, and nuzzled him there for a few seconds. Cecil let out content “mmm” that lasted after Carlos left as he settled his headphones back over his ears


	6. Geology Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 was Perfect/Imperfect! I went with Imperfect!

Carlos had not been answering his phone all day. **  
**

It was fine.

He’d been working from his home lab all day, and was busy studying various samples of Night Vale’s bedrock. He had been incredibly excited about this, since, due to how scientifically fascinating Night Vale was, its bedrock likely would be of incredible scientific interest. It wasn’t that he was ignoring Cecil on purpose. Cecil knew that.

If Carlos was too busy, he would understand.

He’d had a long day, stretched even longer by the way he felt. Nothing caused the way he was feeling today. Everything caused the way he was feeling today. The way feelings like the ones Cecil was experiencing seep into a day’s general experience are unpredictable. Often, the way those feelings influence reactions to particular actions are also unpredictable. After feeling detached and mildly irritated by everything all day, Cecil wanted to lie down with Carlos on the couch for what could only be approximated as hours in a town so characterized by weird time.

But…Carlos seemed incredibly focused on science today.

And if he was too busy, Cecil told himself, that was okay.

It was okay.

He could take care of himself.

He wanted to hold Carlos for a while, and think about nothing while burying his face in Carlos’ sweet-smelling soft hair. But if he couldn’t, it’d be fine.

When he got home, Carlos had not changed out of his pajamas and was looking at something flat and spongy, with a furrowed brow. His desk was covered in notes, which, Cecil noticed, were mostly concerning the location the rock was found in and descriptions of its appearance with a few little hearts around the word “science!!!!!”, and little stickers of fossilized dinosaur footprints. His notes on the rock he was looking at said:

  * _Coordinates: ████_
  * _Date: ████, 2019 (citation needed)_
  * _Location: Sand wastes_
  * _Notes:_
  * _Spongy texture, very similar to pumice, but also nothing like pumice because it behaves exactly like a sponge! It expands in water!_
  * _Does not smell or taste like a sponge, which, scientifically, is significant. It also suggests that this particular bedrock lacks halite!_
  * _♥ SCIENCE! ♥_
  * _Does not appear to be particularly resilient to extreme pressure, as it bends a lot like a normal sponge might, and yet the sand wastes appear to be just as stable as the rest of Night Vale!_
  * _One of the most exciting things about rocks is how they have a cycle very similar to a life cycle! Not actually a life cycle, because scientifically, that is not what they go through, because they are not alive. But they are shaped and changed into different forms by the natural processes of the earth, which is resembles life so much, even though rocks are not alive!!!_
  * _♥ SCIENCE! ♥_



Carlos was currently comparing the spongy rock to another rock, one that was wrapped in plastic and pulsed and wriggled a bit, and writing down everything that was different about them both. With both his hands busy, his foot was excitedly bouncing up and down as he intently analyzed the rocks in his hands.

“Hey,” said Cecil, resting his hands on the back of Carlos’ chair, “Carlos?”

“Hmm,” said Carlos, sitting up and looking at a few other rocks on his desk, “none of the other ones are like this! Something about the sand wastes makes it so that the bedrock is made of a sponge-like material! Hmmm…hmmm…sea floor spreading.”

“Carlos?”

“Dredge..frumarol…halokinesis…”

“Carlos, can you hear me?”

Carlos only turned his attention to a few graphs he had taped to the wall, looking at them intently and saying “hmm”. He rubbed his chin, and wrote an equation on another one of the graphs and tilted his head.

“Hmm,” Carlos said again.

“Takakakakakakaka,” said the shaking plastic-wrapped rock.

Cecil sighed, and fixed Carlos’ nighttime post-shower lab coat’s collar before he left Carlos’ office.

* * *

Carlos wasn’t sure what time it was; he knew it was later, based on his peripheral observation of the passage of time, and since he felt considerably more hungry and tired than he did from the last time he took a few seconds to consider his physical condition. Cecil asked him to take a few moments to do that sort of thing when he was focused on science. Not a lot of time. Just enough time to make sure that he was physically alive and existing. Besides, a fed mind is an healthy and functional mind. That was an important scientific fact.

Another important scientific fact was that Cecil was probably home. Statistically, Cecil was most likely to be home right now. Carlos was not sure when “now” was, but his scientific perception on the passage of time was scientific enough that it, most likely, had to be at least eleven at night. He had gotten through all of the bedrock samples, though he had not quite come to any large scientific conclusions yet. That frustrated him. Things not making sense tend to frustrate scientists.

Carlos found Cecil on the couch and a plate on the coffee table. The television was on, but Cecil was more focused on his phone and the cute digital cats on the screen that he had laid out cute little cat toys for. Carlos walked over to the couch, and sat down next to Cecil. He reached out, and gently poked Cecil’s face.

“Hey, poot.”

“Hey, bunny.”

“Are you okay, Cecil?”

“Mmm,” Cecil exhaled, “I…y’know. It was a long day, that’s all, Carlos.”

“Cecil, did…um, I. Cecil, um, emotionally speaking, was it…did I make it difficult? I was looking at the bedrock samples we collected in various locations in Night Vale, Cecil, and oh, they are so exciting! I have found the bedrock I expected to find here, Ceece, which is mostly amphibolite schist and gneiss! Those are two metamorphic rocks that generally form at a high pressure and at about 320 degrees Celsius! It makes sense that metamorphic rock types like this are found in a desert like Night Vale, but I also discovered a variety of other samples taken throughout Night Vale either resemble rocks that most likely would not be the bedrock of a desert like Night Vale, or otherwise are a completely new species of bedrock! Like, I found nothing but a spongy rock out near the sand wastes that behaves exactly like a sponge would! Another bedrock sample, Cecil, was just a translucent mass that occasionally moved back and forth on my desk and hummed a little bit. And I know, I know, studying geology is illegal, Ceece, I know, but it is so exciting to study! So much scientific history is contained in them! I know what Francis Scott Key said in his famous poem, ‘rocks are just rocks, mind your own business, pal!’, but I have discovered so much more about Night Vale through this study! And–oh, Cecil, you said that you had a long day–”

“Carlos.”

“–and I just talked about things that were not about your day. Cecil, I am so sorry for being inconsiderate. It’s okay if you do not want to hear about this, because of how your day was long. I remember you had a long and difficult day. I do! I just started thinking about how exciting geology always is–”

“Carlos.”

“–because that’s the thing, geology is just such an important field of research and that is why it is so illegal to study it and, I’m sorry, I’m getting off topic, but you can talk about how your day was instead, Cecil, if you would rather talk about that, because–”

“Carlos!”

Cecil didn’t shout; he just said his husband’s name firmly.

Carlos blinked, and looked at Cecil.

“Bunny,” said Cecil, holding Carlos’ face in one hand, “I understand. You were focused on your work. I did feel off today, yes, but I know how much you love to research something as exciting as this. And I love hearing about how exciting it is to you. I saw you were busy when I got home, and I didn’t want to disturb you. I can take care of myself when you’re busy. It’s okay, alright? I am fine. A scientist’s husband is always fine.”

“I just get worried when you’re upset,” said Carlos, leaning into Cecil’s hand, “I do not want you to be upset if I can help you. If you are upset, I want to be with you, helping you. Helping people and you are two of my three favorite things. Scientifically, as in, according to science and logic and all, this means that helping you is also one of my favorite things.”

“Hey,” Cecil stroked Carlos’ face, “I know that. And I know that you love helping me. But you were really involved in your notes and graphs and your totally legal research on things that might be rocks, and I was just fine on my own. I love you.”

“I love you too, poot, and–one second. Actually, no, more than one second, umm…about…about seventy seconds, Cecil. Can I go do something for seventy seconds and then come back here?”

“Uh,” said Cecil, bemused, “yes?”

Carlos excitedly got up, and Cecil heard Carlos’ footsteps disappear into his office. The subtle background noises of the house filled Cecil’s audial focus for a moment. The ever-present thumping of something. The scratching noise of something else. The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lived In Their Home rearranging their pillow stuffing upstairs.

Carlos returned with a slip of paper in his hands. He sat down on the couch next to Cecil, and pressed the paper into Cecil’s hands. Cecil lifted an eyebrow, and read what Carlos handed him.

  * _Coordinates: ████_
  * _Date: ████, 2019 (citation needed)_
  * _Location: ♥ Home ♥_
  * _Handsome. Really handsome. In general, has an handsomeness quotient of at least 700, with higher fluctuations._
  * _Has the most wonderful voice of all! ♥♥♥_
  * _Really, his voice is wonderful!_
  * _He smells so good! Like home should smell._
  * _Has an adorable nose that, upon scientific experimentation, is wonderful to kiss._
  * _Is very nice to hug, and I do not feel that way about anyone else. The skin and flesh and blood and bones that make up his arms and chest are the reactants that produce the product of a hug with him. And scientifically, they are the only hugs I enjoy, which means he is an incredibly special hugger._
  * _Very cute butt. ♥_
  * _I love him, so, so much._



Cecil, despite himself, wiped a hand over his eyes.

“Come here, you” he said, taking Carlos’ hand and letting Carlos press into his chest, “I love you, so much.”

Carlos inhaled deeply and wrapped his arms around Cecil.

“I love you too, so much.”


	7. Formal Special Event Lab Coat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 was Marriage/Proposal, and I went with Marriage!

The first day he ever met Carlos, he had a formal weekday lab coat on. Not to be confused with a formal weekday in-lab lab coat; a formal weekday lab coat was contoured with silk black fabric. Part of what Carlos’ hair so wonderful to see that day was how much that lab coat made it pop, like the contours were made to match the way Carlos’ hair naturally curved and waved. Cecil could hardly help falling in love instantly. Any skepticism he had on interlopers melted instantly when he saw Carlos in that lab coat and resplendent head of hair.

On his first date with Carlos, it had been a relaxed weekend lab coat instead. It was another nice lab coat, airy, and more loose-fitting, with a light blue tint to it. He’d looked stunning that night, and in a different way than Cecil was used to seeing him. The fact that he’d called for personal reasons a few days ago was present in how he was dressed, and how he was acting. Asking questions, mostly questions about Cecil, and some questions about science.

The day Carlos asked Cecil to start a home together, he had had his business-casual lab coat on. Not quite as rigid as a formal weekday lab coat, but not the loose and flowy kind of casual that his weekend lab coats were. Carlos’ business-casual lab coat had fleece lining, and was a deep green in color, with a depth Cecil felt he could gaze into for hours. Holding Carlos in his arms, Cecil took a moment to really look at Carlos’ lab coat. It had wrinkles all over, one of the collars was ruffed, and there were obvious signs of some kind of chemical stain towards the very end of Carlos’ lab coat. Nothing about it was perfect. Cecil held Carlos tighter in his arms, his beautiful, imperfect Carlos.

When Carlos returned from the desert otherworld, smiling, and there, physically, in Night Vale, he’d had his scientific expedition lab coat on. A thicker, protective kind of sciencewear that blocked heavy sun and rain. Since it had been through a year’s worth of wear and tear, though, it seemed…dustier, grittier. There were stains of what was definitely blood on Carlos’ lab coat, which Carlos had said he believed were barbecue sauce but might actually be blood. It was the only lab coat Carlos had refused to ever wear again. He had said he spent too much time in it, too much time, and Cecil understood, even if he did not, fully.

Carlos also had a casual house lab coat, and Cecil had come to appreciate this lab coat the most. Carlos didn’t like wearing it out of the house, so Cecil was completely unaware of its existence until he started sharing a home with Carlos. He appreciated seeing this lab coat perhaps more than others, because of how safe Carlos felt wearing it around Cecil. It looked like, but was not, a bathrobe, made of the same material but with the characteristic angular collars of a lab coat, and lacking the sash bathrobes tend to come with. Instead, it came with a lab coat fastening apparatus, which could be used around a scientist’s waist to secure a casual house lab coat. Cecil loved to rest his head on this soft lab coat, holding Carlos from behind as he did the dishes, brushing his cheek against Carlos’ shoulder, or hugging him close in bed when Carlos felt up to it. The feeling of Carlos’ gentle, soft body underneath the envelope of fleece made Cecil feel safe, and comforted. The fact that Carlos felt safe enough to wear his casual house lab coat was part of it. Another part of it was just how indicative of Carlos it was; how dedicated Carlos was to his work, and how much his work was a part of who he was. And who he was was a scientist. A handsome, adorable, wonderful scientist.

Cecil knew Carlos would be wearing a lab coat, specifically a formal special event lab coat. As much as Carlos loved (and looked good in) tight black evening dresses, he told Cecil that he was not acting, which meant that he would still need to dress like a scientist, because he was a scientist. Just, in this case, a scientist getting married. Carlos also said that the lab coat he was wearing was one he had designed specifically for the occasion, which meant that Cecil would have never seen it before.

“It will be a surprise,” said Carlos, “which really, scientifically, is not a thing. I mean, based on facts and logic. Scientifically and logically, the future of something can be ascertained with a relatively high probability, though probabilities are never a guarantee. Really, Cecil! The future is a variety of possibilities with a higher likelihood that one may occur over another.”

Truthfully, Cecil could not have predicted what he ended up finally seeing. He had a few ideas, admittedly based on the types of lab coats that he felt Carlos would look really nice in. A completely black leather lab coat, with incredibly tall lapels that framed Carlos’ face, with a deep green, satin fringe would be nice to see Carlos in, though that hardly made sense for a wedding. Thinking about Carlos in lab coats was a nice distraction from the amount of worry Cecil was having about his own appearance. What if he was underdressed? What if he was overdressed? What if he didn’t look as good as Carlos? What if people would look at them and not understand how they could be getting married when their clothes were so different? What if Cecil was wearing something that would attract really large wasps that would try to surround them both and cook them to death their body heat? What if–

“Cecil?”

Carlos’ voice cut into his worrying, and Cecil was glad. As anxious as he was, he was excited to see how Carlos looked.

“Are you ready to see the lab coat I designed, sweetie? Scientifically, I mean. The lab coat I designed scientifically, as a scientist. I am not a fashion designer. Just a scientist who is very aware of how much pressure there is to look good in a lab coat.”

“Of course, Carlos! I have been thinking about this ever since you told me about this lab coat you designed!”

“Alright,” said Carlos, jumping into the bedroom and holding his arms out, “behold!”

Cecil did exactly that.

He beheld for a while.

Carlos’ lab coat was purple, the same color of purple as the logo for NVCR. The color purple that accompanies the night. Subdued, but comforting in its darkness. Carlos looked phenomenal on that color, and it made for a good lab coat color. Cecil never really thought about it, but Carlos actually really suited purple, especially a color of purple with tiny flecks of glitter in it that sparkled like tiny stars at every angle. Much more than Cecil felt he himself did. Looking down, Cecil noticed there were other similarities to his station’s logo; towards the bottom, the purple turned to black, arching into shapes that resembled–

“Carlos,” gasped Cecil, putting the angles and lines together into shapes, “is that–did you–?”

“Uh-huh,” said Carlos, walking up to Cecil and holding him by the arms, “do…do you like it, Cecil? I mean, I know you can tell, but I based it off of NVCR’s logo. In the official handbook of lab coat design originally written by Louis Pasteur and later edited by Carl Sagan, the lab coat a scientist wears to a wedding should be indicative of something that a scientist feels is important, Cecil. What it says directly is ‘really make it pop in the most loving way possible’. And I thought, well, scientifically speaking, that…that your show is important. It is really important. To me, and to you.”

For one of the few times in his life, Cecil felt himself rendered speechless. He searched for coherent words, and struggled to find them, and felt hot tears in his eyes. He lifted his hands up, joining them with Carlos’. He just looked at Carlos then, at his beautiful brown eyes, his gorgeous, gelled back black hair, at his lavender shirt and black bowtie with a tiny sleeping stokesosaurus in the middle of it.

“You…” Cecil still struggled with words, things he was ordinarily so good with, so capable of, “you really…mean that?”

“Of course, Cecil. I mean it in the deepest, truest way someone can mean something. Your show has always been important. I listen every time you’re on because I love you. I love your job, and how excited you are to talk to your community, how excited you are to report for them. And I love how good at your job you are, and how suited you are for it. And, Cecil…I love how much your show has been a part of us. How it tells a story about us, and has been doing so since the day you first mentioned me on your show. I used to listen to your show, Cecil, and…and it was strange. Hearing you talk about so many scientifically improbable things, but feeling as though it was all normal. But as I got to know you, and talked to you more, and understood you more, and found I liked talking to you more…it all felt less strange. How I felt about you, and how I felt about Night Vale…it all changed as I got to know you, Cecil. I liked talking to you, and liked being with you. I found that I felt safe with you. And I found that all those things that seemed so strange, so malevolent, underneath, were something else altogether. Something pure, and something innocent. Of course I mean it, Ceece. Your show is, scientifically and personally speaking, very important to me.”

“I’m usually so good with words, Carlos,” said Cecil, “but I’m having so much trouble finding them right now. But, Carlos? I just…Carlos, I love you. I love you so much. I loved you from the first moment I saw you, but I fell even more in love with you as I got to know you. And throughout everything we have been through, every event that has almost destroyed Night Vale, every event that has threatened the fabric of events we call our life, I’ve loved you. And my show…that’s just been how I have let everyone know that. Because I want everyone in Night Vale–everyone in the entirety of the existing world and worlds beyond, honestly–to know how much I love you. And right now, I…Carlos, I just love you so much.”

Carlos eyes lit up, and he smiled, letting go of Cecil’s hands so that he could flap them.

“So you like it?”

“Carlos, I love it. I love you. And my show, but right now, I am mostly thinking about how much I love you. I just hope that what I’m wearing is a fraction as good and meaningful as what you’re wearing because…Carlos, you just look incredible.”

“Cecil,” said Carlos, gently, not flapping his hands anymore, but wrapping them around Cecil’s waist, “of course you do. Of course you do. You look so handsome. I thought about how you might look, a lot, but none of my hypotheses–the scientific word for guesses, Ceece–for your appearance match how you actually look. To put it in scientific terms, Ceece..wow. Cecil. You are the handsomest man of all. And you have the handsomest voice. And,” Carlos craned his neck to look at Cecil’s formal furry pants from another angle, “the handsomest butt.”

Cecil laughed, and took Carlos’ face in his hands tenderly.

“Okay, that, I figured you’d say. I at least have that asset.”

He kissed Carlos then, on lips.

Just once.

Just gently.

And then, feeling Carlos respond to his kiss, with much more vigor.


End file.
